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“Unlike me, Jane never witnessed another person being tossed from a horse and sustaining a debilitating injury.”
The two exchanged looks, hers laced with a semblance of the pain she suffered at the time and his filled with empathy.
“I am sorry you had to suffer such an unpleasant experience, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Sir, you are very kind. However, that was many years ago, and I am only reminded of it when in proximity to one of those fierce creatures.” Here she glanced over her shoulder. She bit her lower lip.
Seeing this, Darcy ceased his step and approached his horse. He whispered in the beast’s ear and then secured the reins to its saddle. Seconds later, the fierce animal was on its way - racing ahead. Alone.
Removing his gloves one by one and then clasping his hands behind his back, Darcy said, “How is that, Miss Elizabeth?”
Her spirits rising to playfulness, she said, “Again, sir, you are far too kind to me.”
“As you are my guest, I hope you will find that I am more than happy to do whatever it takes to be of service to you,” Darcy said. “You and your sister,” he added, smiling.
If Elizabeth secretly delighted in admiring his brooding mien, seeing him smile really stole her breath away. Indeed, she had seen him smile a time or two the evening before but not like this. My sister Jane is a most fortunate woman, she reminded herself.
Allowing her mind to wander, she wondered what it would be like if that particular smile of his was meant for her alone. How fortunate it would be if she were the woman who garnered his esteem.
No, I must not allow myself to think this way, else it will be a very long, hot and tumultuous summer, at the end of which this man might be my brother.
Try as she might to do otherwise, she could not help but consider the prospect especially as they resumed their leisurely pace, not arm in arm she thankfully considered, but close enough for her to appreciate his scent, fresh and masculine. Her mind was so busily engaged in ways to distract herself from thinking of her walking companion as anything other than her sister’s suitor that she missed a step. She nearly tumbled, and before she knew it, she was practically in Mr. Darcy’s arms.
“Are you all right, Miss Elizabeth?”
Bewildered by the plethora of sensations flooding her entire being, she nodded. Freeing herself from his loose grip, she backed away. Which turned out to be a mistake, for in not looking where she was going, she stumbled over a stick in the path and fell. The ensuing pain was such that she could not disguise it, forcing her now to do that which moments ago, she desperately wished to avoid. Accepting his proffered hand, she was once again amazed by the frisson of heat that such a seemingly innocent action aroused.
“You are injured.”
She shook her head. “My ankle, although it is not something I have not experienced before. I shall be all right in a matter of minutes, no more than a quarter an hour or so, I am sure.”
Concerned, Darcy said, “I must ask you to sit while I examine your ankle.”
“Sir, how would it look if we were to be discovered in such a compromising position?” Elizabeth cried.
“I do not know that there is a feasible alternative. What is more, as there are only the two of us about, there is no chance of anyone seeing us.” Having taken off his riding coat and fashioned a rather cushiony seat for her, he commenced coaxing her to sit.
Upon doing as the gentleman suggested, she grew astonished when he lowered himself to a knee and reached for her boot-covered ankle. Unthinkable thoughts flooded her mind of what him removing her boot even if only to inspect her ankle might entail. She swallowed hard.
“No!” Elizabeth protested. “What I mean to say is that I shall — I shall do it. Pray, turn your head, Mr. Darcy, while I remove my boot.”
“If you insist,” he said, standing and stepping a short distance away, his back turned as she had requested.
At length, he turned to look back at her. Having removed her boot and detected a slight coloring, she by now had put it on, and she was in the process of lacing it. “There is nothing at all to see,” she lied. Standing unassisted, she masked the ensuing discomfort with her smile. “Shall we proceed?” She asked, ignoring her own pain. In truth, she had indeed suffered worse and had managed just fine on her own, sometimes even relying on a makeshift crutch fashioned from a fallen tree branch.
This time shall be no different, she silently considered. Elizabeth was determined to do anything to escape the sole company of this man with whom she now felt herself in some danger. These unmaidenly and not to go unmentioned unsisterly-like sentiments I am wont to suffer toward this man simply will not do.
Glancing into the dark eyes of the handsome man who had extended his arm to her in an offer of support, Elizabeth silently affirmed, I will overcome this.
CHAPTER 9
EXACTING STANDARDS
Fitzwilliam Darcy’s absence from breakfast that morning was duly noted and remarked on with alacrity by the Bingley sisters. Not that Charles Bingley minded. He, more than anyone, revered his friend. In fact, he depended upon his friend most prodigiously to advise - even instruct - him on those matters that Darcy was inherently aware of and that Charles himself had yet to learn. The fact that his friend had attended Miss Bennet so diligently as he had the evening before gave Bingley pause, knowing as he did that she was not the sort of woman who might tempt his friend.
On the other hand, I have yet to meet any woman who satisfies my friend’s exacting standards. He threw a casual glance in his younger sister’s direction. Would that Darcy would look Caroline’s way. Bingley laughed a little at the prospect of such a union.
She is my sister, but I dare not wish such a fate upon my best friend.
